


Ghost

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Coming Down [5]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Canonical Minor Injury, D/s AU, Hand Jobs, Insecurity, Multi, Polyamory, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willie doesn’t tell Aaron when it hurts, where, how much.  He guesses that’s something he needs to earn, but he doesn’t know how to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> WOW something not about Connor McDavid. Imagine that.
> 
> I do not represent the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do I make any claims about what they do or do not do in their everyday lives.

Everything’s quiet and dark.  They haven’t turned on the lights in Willie and Meg’s room since the day before, when Aaron had crawled under the covers in the middle of the day to take a nap, and Meg had joined him just before dinner.  She curled up against him, pulling his arms around her, and pet his hair as he willed the pounding in his head to go away.

“Do you want something to eat?” Meg asks quietly.

Aaron grunts.  He hadn’t heard her come in.  He’s not hungry, not really, but he knows that he should still eat something.  He’ll be back with the team soon, has already missed more games than he wants to, but in the scheme of things, four games isn’t that much.  At least, that’s what he tries to think.

“I’ll eat something if you make it,” he replies at length.

“What about some pork?”  She’s still rubbing his head, and Aaron never wants her to stop.  “With mustard and a little honey on it?  I’ve got the loin, it would make a nice crust on the outside.”

“Sounds good,” Aaron says, nuzzling into her hands.  “And asparagus?”

“If that’s what you want,” Meg says, her fingers digging in just above his ears, where the pain is the worst.  Aaron hisses out a breath, the pressure on his skull helping to dim the throbbing.

“It’ll have to sit in the oven for almost an hour, you can keep napping if you want.”

“Will you come back while it’s cooking?”  Aaron looks up at her, or what he can see of her in the darkness.  “It feels better when you’re touching me like that.”

“Yeah, of course.”  Meg kisses him gently, grazing Aaron’s collar with her fingertips.  “I’ll be about 20 minutes, and then I’ll come back.”

“Okay.”

“And no more TV today.”

“Okay,” Aaron says, and lets Meg climb out of bed.  He pulls the sheets and the comforter tight around him, trying to conserve the heat that Meg had left behind.  The sheets and the pillows and everything else in this room smell like Willie and Meg, and a little bit of Aaron, and it makes it feel like Willie’s there, even when he’s still on the road trip with the team.

But the team’s coming back the next morning, to get a couple days at home before the game in Tampa.  He gets to see Willie tomorrow morning.

He thinks he falls asleep again, because it’s almost no time at all before Meg’s crawling back into bed and worming her way into his arms.

“Has it gotten any better?” Meg asks, petting Aaron’s hair again after he ducks his head.

“Yeah,” Aaron sighs, closing his eyes and resting his chin on her chest.  “Still hurts, though.”

“It’s only been a couple days,” Meg reminds him gently.  “There’s plenty of games left once you’re better.”

“I know,” Aaron says, tilting his head into her hands.  “This is almost as nice, anyway.”

Meg laughs, putting obvious effort into keeping it quiet.  Aaron feels warm.

“Nice of you to say, Aaron,” she says.  _I know it doesn’t even compare to playing a game_ , she doesn’t say, but she and Aaron both know it.

They’re quiet then, except for Pinot trotting around the bed and whining every so often, when no one picks him up.

“Shh,” Meg says, and Pinot quiets.  Aaron falls asleep.

 

.oOo.

 

“Hey, Eks,” Aaron hears when he wakes up.  There’s light edging around the blinds, meaning that it’s morning.  And that means…

“Willie!” Aaron grins, opening his eyes and looking up at him.  Willie looks tired, sitting on the edge of the bed in his suit, tie loosened.  “You’re back.”

“Yeah, kid,” Willie says, and brushes Aaron’s hair back from his face.  “A long couple of days without you.”

“Same for me,” Aaron replies.  “Well, I had Meg.”

“Yeah, she told me you’re still hurting.”

Aaron reaches out and takes hold of Willie’s arm, tugging until Willie gets the hint and lies down next to him.  He winces, shifting a little until he can lie down comfortably.

“Are _you_ okay?” Aaron asks, putting his hand on Willie’s hip.  He knows Willie’s been feeling a little sore, but nothing as bad as it looks now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Willie assures him.  “Just the normal stuff.”

“Okay,” Aaron replies doubtfully.

“I’m more worried about you,” Willie says, moving a little closer, with an accompanying wince.

“I just need a little more rest,” Aaron says, nudging his head against Willie’s hand until he started petting him.  “It’s been hurting less every day.”

“Any dizziness?”

Aaron shakes his head carefully.  “Not since the first night.  No nausea, either.”

“That’s good,” Willie says, and kisses him.

Aaron kisses back, pressing as close as he can to Willie without jostling him.  Willie never tells Aaron if he’s hurting, or what it is that’s causing him pain.  Aaron can guess, can pick out what sort of movements make him wince, where Willie guides him away from when they’re playing or just lying like this.  But Willie doesn’t tell Aaron when it hurts, where, how much.  He guesses that’s something he needs to earn, but he doesn’t know how to do it.

“Are you okay for the game tonight?” Aaron asks, nuzzling his cheek against Willie’s.

“Yeah, of course.

Aaron frowns.  “Take a bath before your nap.”

“Yes, Aaron,” Willie laughs, kissing him gently.  “But everything’s just fine.  You know how the travelling makes everyone a little sore.”

“If you say so,” Aaron settles on, tilting his head back a little bit.

“I do say so,” Willie murmurs, and kisses Aaron’s neck softly.  “I don’t need you worrying about me when you’re supposed to be getting better.”

“Okay,” Aaron sighs, closing his eyes.  It’s no use arguing with Willie when he gets like this, and he doesn’t need Meg shaking her head at him to let him know he should back off.

“Do my two invalids want lunch?” Meg asks, coming into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not an invalid,” Aaron grumbles, looking back over his shoulder to pout at her.

“Of course not, sweetie,” she says, kissing him until the pout goes away.

“I am hungry, though,” Willie says, reaching out and taking Meg’s hand.  “Had to go too long without your cooking.”

“You get a kiss, too.”  She leans over Aaron to kiss Willie, and it fills Aaron with sweet joy.  He loves them so much, is so glad that he gets to be a part of what Meg and Willie had built for themselves, first.

“What about some soup?”  Meg rests her elbow on Aaron’s hip, propping herself up to look at them.  “Wouldn’t take too long to make some chicken noodle, with the stock I have in the fridge.”

“That sounds great,” Aaron sighs happily, his mouth already beginning to water.

“Chicken soup it is,” Meg decides, kissing Aaron again, and then Willie, for good measure.  “Once everything’s on the stove I’ll come back up.

Aaron smiles and settles back against Willie.  Right now, he can’t imagine anything better than curling up with his two favorite people in Florida.

 

.oOo.

 

The only good thing about not being able to play is cuddling on the couch with Meg as they watch the game, the volume of the T.V. turned way down.  Of course he’d rather be playing, but if he can’t play, he likes this, curling around Meg and letting her pet his hair, hearing her quiet cursing when the Oilers score once, twice, three times.

Aaron closed his eyes about half way through the game, just listening to the muffled play-by-play.

He didn’t know he was asleep until Meg’s sliding a pillow under his head and getting up, making shushing noises.

“He’s asleep,” Meg says quietly.

“Kid’s been sleeping a lot,” Willie replies.  Aaron almost sits up, wants to go over and welcome Willie home, but being able to hear what they’re saying to each other when he’s not around, that’s even better.  Or – not better, but something he can’t help but do.

“He’s getting better, though.  He didn’t have a problem with the screen, or the noise.”

“That’s good.”

They come closer, probably sitting in the love seat cady-corner to the couch.  Aaron relaxes his body, breathing slow and deep, and keeps his eyes closed.

“How’s your leg?”

“Fine.”  Willie’s voice is sharp.

“Cut the shit.”

“It’s not any worse.”

“Willie,” Meg scolds.  “If you can tell anyone, you can tell me.  I’m not going to bench you.”

“The game didn’t make it any worse.  It’s been… you know.  And the trip didn’t help.  They never do.  Especially when it’s 12 games away in a row.”

“You got that little break before the Tampa game,” Meg says.  Aaron hears them kiss.  “You just need rest.  The break’s coming up, soon.”

“Six whole days.”

“Six days with no practice, no games, nothing.  You can just lie in bed all day.  Smoke up on the boat.”

“Yeah,” Willie sighs.  More kissing, and Meg moans softly.

“I’m not letting you fuck me if your leg’s hurting,” Meg gasps out.

“Guess I’ll just have to eat you out instead,” Willie says.

And – okay, now Aaron feels weird pretending to be asleep, eavesdropping on them, and he stretches, yawns like he’s just waking up.

“Welcome back to the world of the living, kid,” Willie laughs, and reaches over to ruffle Aaron’s hair.  Willie’s sitting on the loveseat, with Meg balanced in his lap, one of his hands high on her thigh.  “You make it through the whole game?”

“No,” Aaron mutters.

“He was out by the time the third period started,” Meg says fondly.  “Getting his energy to start practicing again.”

“Day after tomorrow.” Aaron grins.  “Trainers thought optional skate’s a good day to go back.”

“They’re giving me that day off,” Willie says, a sort of false casualness in the way he wraps his arms around Meg.

“But…” Aaron doesn’t know what objection to raise.  _I want to skate with you_ seems too juvenile.  _Are you hurting that much?_ won’t get him anywhere.

“It’s an optional skate, Aaron, and it’s been a long first half.  Trainers said I should take a little rest.”

Willie’s acting like it’s not a big deal; Aaron doesn’t want to worry too much, seem like some innocent little sub that doesn’t know how this sort of thing works.  But he’s _worried_ , and Meg is, too, can see it in the pinch of her mouth when she thinks Aaron isn’t looking at her, heard it in her voice just a few minutes ago.

“Just a normal rest day for an _optional_ skate,” Willie says, hooking his finger in Aaron’s collar.  “It’s nothing, really.”

“Okay,” Aaron says easily.  He knows if Meg couldn’t get anywhere by arguing, then Aaron definitely can’t.  “You guys ready for bed?”

 

.oOo.

 

“How do you feel today?” Willie asks the next morning, sliding his hand up under Aaron’s shirt.

“A lot better,” Aaron sighs, tilting his head back against Willie’s shoulder.  Meg makes a sleepy noise, from where she’s curled against Aaron’s chest.  “Only hurts a little.”

“That’s good,” Willie says, and kisses Aaron’s neck, above his collar.  It’s not like the little kisses Willie’s scattered over him since he got back yesterday morning.  There’s more purpose behind it, matching his intent in petting Aaron’s bare chest.

“We’re apart for six days and you can’t keep your hands off me?”

“Something like that.”

Aaron twists a little, just enough to get his lips on Willie’s.  Willie kisses him back, and it doesn’t hurt like it has, to have that pressure on his head.  He’s glad, because he’s missed kissing Willie.

“If I jerk you off will that make you feel worse?”

“No,” Aaron sighs, kissing Willie again.  He can feel Willie’s smile against his lips, and Willie’s hand on his neck, rustling the tags on his collar.

Aaron wants to turn, press closer to Willie and really _kiss him_.  But Meg’s still tucked against his chest, and she deserves to sleep in, even if the both of them are awake.  And… he’s never sure if he’s going to hurt Willie.  He trusts Willie would tell him if Aaron was really hurting him, but sometimes, when Aaron can see how much pain Willie hides from him and Meg, he wonders.

Willie’s hand slips into Aaron’s boxers, curling around his cock and stroking slowly.  Aaron breathes out, tilting his head back against Willie’s shoulder.

“Feels good,” Aaron murmurs, closing his eyes.  Willie hums and leans into him, stroking a little faster.

It’s quiet.  Aaron can’t really hear anything but Willie’s breath, his own small moans, and the sheets rustling as Willie’s hand moves.  It feels good, too, unhurried in a way they don’t usually have time for.

His orgasm sneaks up on him.  He wasn’t even really thinking about coming, which is different, just sinking into Willie’s hand on him.  Meg’s soft against him, too, her breasts pressed to his chest.  And then he’s groaning and coming in his boxers.  He slumps back against Willie’s chest, breathing heavy and tilting to the side when Willie plants a kiss on his neck.

“You’re so good,” Willie murmurs, pulling his hand out of Aaron’s underwear and wiping it on his stomach.  “Missed this.”

“Me, too,” Aaron manages to say, reaching for Willie’s hand and holding it tightly.  They lie there for a moment, the sun peeking through the edges of the curtains on the window.  Then Aaron lets go of Willie’s hand and reaches back, searching for the bulge of Willie’s cock in his briefs.

He’s mostly soft, but it’s happened before, and Aaron’s not too worried about it.  He knows how to cup Willie and work his fingers, press his palm against the length of him.  It fills him with a sense of pride, to feel Willie getting hard for him, specifically because of what he’s doing, because of how well he knows Willie’s body.

He slips his hand into Willie’s briefs and runs his thumb over the head, drawing a hiss out of Willie.  The bed shifts slightly; Willie’s thrusting up into his hand, rubbing against Aaron.  It’s an awkward position, to have his arm twisted up behind him, but Aaron doesn’t mind.  He gets to have them here, so he’ll deal with a bit of a cramp in his wrist.

And it doesn’t take too much longer for Willie to come, when Aaron twists his hand around Willie’s cock on every upstroke and rocks back against him every time Willie bucks forward.  He feels Willie jerk, hears the groan he doesn’t completely muffle against the back of Aaron’s shoulder, and his come sticking to Aaron’s hand.

He missed this _so much_.

“You okay?” Willie asks, lips pressed to Aaron’s ear.

“Mmhmm.”

Willie shifts and one of his joints cracks.  He curses under his breath and starts to get up, moving slowly.

“Are _you_ okay?” Aaron asks, looking back at him.

Willie’s smile is tight.  “I’m fine.  Stay with Meg.”

Aaron loves holding Meg.  But if Willie’s hurting…

Willie has to see it on his face, because he says again, “I’m fine.”

“All right,” Aaron says quietly, and turns back around.  Willie limps heavily into the room, and Meg sleeps, and Aaron lies there with come cooling in his boxers and worries.

 

.oOo.

 

“You’re _what?”_ Aaron demands, sitting at the kitchen table across from Meg and Willie two days later, just before he’ll _finally_ be back on the ice.  They glance at each other, sharing one of those looks they’re always sharing.  Aaron hasn’t felt more like a child since moving in with them than he does now.

“The team’s putting me on IR, so I’ll get a couple games off to rest up,” Willie says again.

“But you’re not…” _injured_ , Aaron thinks.  He feels like it’d be bad luck to say it.

“There’re some things that’ve been acting up,” Meg explains, putting her hand on Willie’s arm.  “He’s been hurting a little, and with you guys doing so well this year, the team figured it was better he get this chance to rest.”

“But…” Aaron looks down at the eggs and waffles on his plate.  He knew he should’ve been suspicious when Meg pulled out the waffle iron.  “Okay.”

“Aaron, whatever it is you’re thinking, just say it,” Willie tells him tiredly.

“You didn’t even tell me something was bothering you,” Aaron says abruptly.  “I figured it out, I’m not _stupid_ , but you didn’t tell me.  Even when I was hurting you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Willie starts.  Meg shushes him.  Aaron tries not to get some sick sort of pleasure from seeing the frustration on Willie’s face.

“I don’t want to put words in your mouth,” Meg says, reaching for Aaron’s hand over the table.  “But you think that we didn’t trust you enough to tell you when Willie’s hurting, is that it?”  Aaron nods.  “Do you… do you feel that way a lot, that we don’t trust you.”

“Not _a lot_ ,” Aaron mutters, looking down at the table.  “But sometimes, yeah.”

“You could at least look at us when you’re talking,” Willie sighs.

“I’m not your kid,” Aaron states, frowning at Willie.  “You – sometimes you treat me like I am.  I’m _not_.”

“Aaron, of course you’re not,” Meg assures him, squeezing his hand.  “We know you’re not a child.”

“Then why are you…” Aaron doesn’t know how to say it.  He’s been wondering for _weeks_ if it was just him imagining it, or if they did actually treat him differently.  And he knows he can’t come in here and replicate years of marriage in the space of a couple months – but he wants to be treated as an equal.  That’s not too much to ask for.

“I don’t know what we did to make you feel like that,” Willie says, staring down at the table with his jaw clenched.  Aaron has to bite his lip to stop from spitting out _you could at least look at me when you’re talking._   “I’m not saying it’s not true.  I just don’t know what it was.”

“Hiding things from me?” Aaron says.  “Discussing things and then telling me what you decided instead of letting me be in on it, too?  Telling me to stay with Meg instead of making sure you’re okay?”

“We’re just trying to look out for you,” Meg offers.  “Do you not like that?”

“I like it,” Aaron says firmly.  “I do.”

“When we do something that makes you feel like we’re looking down on you, tell us,” Meg tells him.  Aaron glances to the side and makes a noise.  “ _Aaron_.  I’ve had to ask the same of Willie.”

“She has,” Willie admits, shooting Aaron a rueful smile.

“Then say if I’m hurting you,” Aaron tells Willie.  “It’s not like I’ll think you’re weak or something because I’m digging into a bruise.”

From the guilty look on Willie’s face, that’s exactly what he’d been thinking.

“I don’t want to be angry at you guys about being left out of all this stuff,” Aaron says.  “I don’t…” He doesn’t like the resentment building in him when they whisper about something without cluing him in, or share a look and say something just through that.  If he has to suck it up and tell them when they’re doing it, until it festers and boils into him wanting to snap at them and fight just to fight.

That’s not something Aaron does.  But, more importantly, maybe, it’s not something that a proper sub does.  If Aaron can’t look like a proper sub, he’s at least going to act like one.

“I’ll tell you if there’s something bothering me,” Aaron concedes.  “I promise.”

Meg elbows Willie.

“I’ll tell you if something’s hurting,” Willie agrees grudgingly.

“I’ll make sure you stay in the loop, Aaron,” Meg says, and leans across the table to kiss his cheek gently.

He smiles a little, and looks down at his waffles.  Meg doesn’t let go of his hand, and it takes some work to cut his waffles like that, but he doesn’t want to let go if he can help it.

 

.oOo.

 

Aaron doesn’t like playing without Willie.  It leaves him off-balance, a little, that Willie’s up in the box watching with Meg, hurting and probably angry, and Aaron’s down here playing.  He has the rest of the team – of course he does.  In the first intermission, leaning against Jaro and picking at the tape on his socks, he wonders if he’d be able to get through the game if he didn’t have them.

It terrifies him, a little.

But then that gets pushed away with everything else to go out on the ice again.  He scores a goal, somehow, and when he’s got his teammates slapping his back and shouting in his ear, something slips.

He’s played hockey when he’s sliding down before, but not without Willie.

At least the game’s going well, and if he gives away an extra puck or two, it’s not the end of the world.  When he’s on the bench he hooks his fingers in his collar, the same way Willie does whenever they’re sitting near each other, and pulls himself together enough to manage another shift.

And once the game’s over and he’s gone out of the ice as the third star, he plops down in his stall, fully dressed, and stays there.

“You okay, kid?” Jaro asks cautiously, after a couple minutes.

Aaron looks up at him and smiles.  “Uh huh.”

Jaro cups his chin, studies his face for a moment, then clucks his tongue.  “Got too excited about playing?”

Aaron shrugs, leaning his head back against the back of his stall.  “Maybe.”

Jaro pats his helmet.  “Good kid.”

Aaron smiles wider.  A couple of the guys stop by before heading to the showers, giving Aaron a pat on the cheek or the shoulder or the top of his head.

The energy in the room shifts as soon as Willie walks in.  Aaron sits up in his stall, watching as Willie goes around the guys still in the room, clapping them on the back and chirping them.  Aaron can’t even hear what he’s saying, but having Willie in the same room as him is _great_.

“Hey there Aaron,” Willie says, unbuckling Aaron’s helmet and pulling it off.  “You know you gotta get out of your pads, right, kid?”

“I know, Willie,” Aaron says with a grin.  “I wanted to wait for you.”

“Can’t give your captain a day off,” Willie chides him, but he’s smiling, and Aaron knows he’s not serious.  “All right, let’s get you out of all this.  You stink.”

Aaron holds up his arms.  Willie helps him get his jersey off, and then his pads, but when it gets to his skates, Willie hesitates.

“Old man can’t bend down,” Hubs says, sidling up to them, dressed in his suit.  “I do that part.”

Willie huffs a laugh and Aaron grins, Hubs kneeling down next to them and untying Aaron’s skates.

“Don’t need to ask if you’re coming out tonight, huh?” Jaro asks Aaron, back from his shower, tossing his towel in his stall and pulling on his briefs.

“This old man’s gotta rest,” Willie says with a shrug, taking the skate Hubs hands him.  “Aaron can go out if he wants.”

On the one hand – Aaron can see the effort Willie’s making, even while he’s undressing him after a game, to make it clear he’s not treating Aaron like a kid that can’t take care of himself.  If he decided to go out with the guys, Willie wouldn’t stop him, and he wouldn’t be disappointed or angry or anything.  On the other hand – Aaron wants Willie to care where he’s going.  He doesn’t want Willie to just step back and let Aaron do whatever he wants because Aaron said he wants to be an equal.  He doesn’t – he doesn’t want to be an equal like a Dom or a switch.  He just wants Willie to know that he’s _there_ and he _matters_.

Willie does know, Aaron realizes a bit abruptly, when Willie’s putting Aaron’s skates up in his stall.  That’s why he’s letting Aaron pick for himself.  It’s not that Willie doesn’t care which he picks, or he’s trying to step back as Aaron’s Dom.  He’s just showing Aaron _you’re not a child, you don’t have a curfew, you don’t need mommy and daddy to pick you up from the rink to go home_.

“I’ll let you sleep,” Aaron says belatedly.  “I’ll go out, for a bit.”

“Third star gets a drink,” Jaro says, and sweeps Aaron’s sweaty hair back from his forehead.

Willie smiles, and once Aaron’s out of his gear, kisses him softly.  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

“Bye, Willie,” Aaron says, and presses up for another kiss.

Willie shoves his hands in his pockets and walks out of the dressing room, stopping to talk to the couple of guys he didn’t get on his way in.  It doesn’t make Aaron feel anxious this time, to see Willie leaving without him.

“C’mon, time to shower,” Jaro says, with a nudge to Aaron’s side.

Aaron grabs his towel and goes.

**Author's Note:**

> YES there was some angst but it got RESOLVED i can be NICE SOMETIMES
> 
> join me in sin on tumblr @ somethingnerdythiswaycomes


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